


After Party

by theherocomplex



Series: Commander Eliza Shepard [11]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 23:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10627845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theherocomplex/pseuds/theherocomplex
Summary: They have all the time in the galaxy.





	

Shepard could walk her cabin blindfolded and not graze an elbow, but she managed to bruise both shins and a kneecap by the time she and Garrus reached the door of the master bedroom. 

Of course, she didn't make a habit of getting drunk and then getting handsy in her cabin, but the heady combination of whiskey, leftover adrenaline, and Garrus in a tailored black-and-white suit made her forget every damn ounce of self-control she'd spent the past decade honing to a razor's edge. 

Almost every damn ounce. She managed to keep her dress on and mostly in place as they climbed the stairs, despite Garrus' best efforts to the contrary. 

_What can I say?_ he'd whispered during their tango, one hand sliding over the curve of her hip and the hard furl of bone beneath it. _I like you in black._

He'd made her laugh — not just a smile and huff of breath, but full, head-thrown-back laughter, in spite of the public dancing — and then he'd made her gasp as that hand on her hip tightened, and he bent close to murmur in her ear. 

_I'll like you even more out of it_. 

How was it that even the corniest lines sounded like absolute sex when they came out of his mouth? A year and a half ago, Garrus had thought techno was the height of seduction music. Now, thinking about the confident, effortless way he steered them across the dance floor, whispering in her ear the whole time, it was hard not to ask him to strip her bare on the landing. 

The promise of a bed, darkness, and privacy — woe betide the idiot who interrupted her time with Garrus, and everyone in the apartment knew it — kept her thoughts together long enough to get the door unlocked. Then all bets were off, because Garrus was _everywhere_ , pressing her against the wall, pulling her hair out of its braids, stroking her waist, kissing her until her knees sagged and his arms were the only things holding her up. 

The whole galaxy had fallen on her shoulders; stone after stone piled on top of each other as another system went dark or another planet was abandoned. Her back creaked under the weight, and sometimes she woke up in the middle of the night, gasping for breath with nightmare fires still burning behind her eyes — but Garrus was always there, and he had carried her, whenever she stumbled. 

Of course, all the gratitude and lust in the galaxy couldn't keep her from laughing when Garrus, lit by the golden light from the hallway, took a step back and immediately tripped over a footstool. He flailed for balance, hissing, but tipped backwards and landed in an ungainly armored heap on the footstool. It scooted back across the floor with a squeal of metal against wood, and stopped only when the back of Garrus' cowl hit the bed. 

Shepard held her breath as her chest shook. _Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't you fucking laugh —_

She let loose, huge braying convulsions that knocked the wind straight out of her lungs and made her drop to her knees on the floor. He looked so righteously _offended,_ like he was about to pull out his Black Widow and blast the shit out of the footstool — the thought made her laugh harder, till tears ran down her cheeks and she couldn't see anything more than a blur of movement as Garrus slowly stood up. 

"Sorry —" she managed to get out between cackles. "But you just — your legs flipped _up_ , Garrus, you looked like a damn Weeble —" 

"Laughing at your boyfriend's a moodkiller pretty much everywhere, Shepard," he said. 

"I didn't know you could _bend_ that way."

"I _can't_." 

She buried her face in her hands, trying to remember how to breathe, and managed to restrain herself to a few watery giggles by the time Garrus pulled her upright. Somewhere during her little fit, he'd closed the door, and only a sliver of light slipped through the curtains to light their way. 

"Sorry," she said. "I just —" 

"It's good to hear you laugh like that, even if it's at my expense." His hands settled on her shoulders, smoothing, stroking, then worked their way into her hair. 

Shepard shivered, the last echoes of her laughter fading. "You took off your gloves." 

Garrus hummed. The points of his talons pricked her scalp, just hard enough to send a wave of gooseflesh down her arms. Shepard leaned into his touch, almost purring when he tugged gently at her hair. 

"So," he said, voice low, and warm, and just as dark as the room around them. "You want to see what else I can trip over, or…?" 

"Definitely _or_." She closed her eyes as he cradled her head in one hand, and pulled her tight against his chest with the other. "You know I love you," she said, as his mouth brushed hers. "Right?"

Garrus let his forehead rest against hers. "I know," he said, all amusement gone. Now he sounded old, tired — but above all, grateful. Maybe even a little wondering. 

Downstairs, the party swelled; someone shrieked laughter and someone else started singing. The bass pulsed under their feet as they swayed, clinging to each other, in the dark room. 

The next kiss blossomed slowly between them. Shepard let Garrus support her weight while she toed out of her heels and felt for the clasps of his armor. One by one the pieces fell away, until all he wore was his undersuit. She ran her hands over his chest, ready to pull the rest of his clothes off, but he lifted her with his hands braced under his thighs, and settled her back against the wall. 

He did it so quickly, so easily, that Shepard barely noticed he'd pushed her dress up past her hips until his talons brushed the bare skin of her ass. 

"Garrus," she said, as he ground his hips into her, "I'm not —" 

He went still before she could finish the sentence. "Shepard. That's…unexpected." 

"It's a tight dress." She wriggled against him till her legs were braced over his hips, then draped her arms around his neck. "And I hate thongs, so…" 

"Efficient." Garrus nipped at her neck, then licked the sore spot. Shepard jolted against him, and felt his laughter as a low buzz against her breasts. 

"Not that efficient," she said, tugging his face down to hers. "You're not inside me yet, Garrus." 

"And here I thought we were indulging in foreplay." 

She laughed, and left a trail of kisses over his mandible and down his throat. His larynxes hummed, a little loose, a little unsteady, under her lips. " _Foreplay_ is what nearly happened on the stairs. This is —" 

Garrus thrust against her, a sharp snap of his hips, and Shepard moaned as the weight of his cock settled between her legs. Already that far gone, unsheathed and heavy — she wanted every inch of his cock in her mouth, and started to tell him that when Garrus balanced her weight on one arm and shoved his trousers to his knees. 

The head of his cock slipped into her cunt, burning hot and slick. Shepard didn't believe in all that _her eyes rolled back in her head_ crap, but she sure as hell felt dizzy when Garrus paused, holding them in place. 

"Jesus _fuck_ ," she hissed, and tried to slide down, but he held her still. "Garrus —" 

"That doesn't sound like an order, Commander," he purred against her neck. 

Shepard dug her fingernails into his hide — not too hard, just enough to get him moving — and gasped, head thrown back, when he groaned and thrust into her. "Fuck me, Garrus," she panted. " _Please._ " 

The need in her voice vibrated through the room, dark and honey-thick, pulled from deep in her bones. Underneath it came the frayed, desperate thrum of Garrus' response as he inhaled, his mouth hot against her skin, and slid into her, to the hilt.

After that, she let Garrus set the pace, and just held on. She'd have bruises the next morning where he'd gripped her hips, just like he'd have marks on his neck from her nails, but she didn't feel any pain, just heat and an unbearable fullness where their bodies joined. 

He came first, the breath punching out of him as his thrusts went erratic, and then he buried himself in her cunt, as deep as he could. The pressure against her clitoris sent her spiraling after him, writhing and almost sobbing as she clenched around his cock. 

It was always over too soon; the room reformed around them, time started to flow, Shepard settled back into her body, loose and sweaty and way too warm. Her dress itched and stuck to her back, and she shivered as a faint cool breeze fanned over her ass. 

Garrus sighed against her collarbone. His arms shook a little, but he didn't ease her to the ground. Fine by Shepard. She'd stay pressed chest to chest, with his cock still pulsing inside her, as long as he wanted to keep her here.

"That," he said, a little hoarsely, "was…"

"Fantastic," she finished. 

"Mm." 

A few more heartbeats went by, then Garrus turned them around, and walked awkwardly to the bed. He tumbled her onto it first, then fell on his back beside her. 

Downstairs, the party was still rolling; someone was cheering Javik's name, and Shepard thought she smelled pizza. 

"Should we go investigate?" Garrus pulled his visor off and tossed it to the side table. 

Shepard shook her head, then realized the gesture was probably invisible in the dark. "Unless I hear screams — of _pain_ — from someone other than Vega, or smell something burning, I'm staying out of it. Let them do their own thing." 

Garrus huffed laughter. "You realize Zaeed's _thing_ is booby-trapping your apartment, right?" 

"Yeah, and I wonder where he got _that_ idea." Shepard tugged her dress over her head and threw it on the floor. Her nipples pricked as she lazily stroked her breasts, and sank a little deeper into the afterglow. "Please tell me you remember the deactivation codes." 

"Your lack of faith —" 

"So help me, Garrus, if you quote Star Wars at me while I'm naked, you can sleep in the shower with Grunt." 

The bed shook with his laughter. "Don't worry, Shepard. I remember. Wouldn't want your new apartment going up in flames." 

Considering all the people who were drinking themselves into comas downstairs, the odds of her apartment going up in flames were _excellent_ , but Shepard decided not to point that out. Why tempt disaster more than usual? 

"Good," she said, and rolled on her side. "So. Sleep?" 

Garrus grunted, then started shrugging out of his undersuit. "If you're ready," he said, his voice muffled as he pulled the tunic over his head. 

Shepard knew she _should_ sleep — morning would come soon enough, with a hell of a mess to clean up and the rest of the galaxy beating at her door — but Garrus was with her, warm and relaxed, his eyes gleaming faintly in the dark, and she felt a low, quiet wave of desire come over her. 

Why waste time sleeping? Why not take it slow and easy this time, and hold on to this peace for as long as she could? Why not _live_ while she was still alive? 

_A lesson I should have learned a long time ago_. 

"I think I'm ready….but not for sleep." She sat up and stretched, arching her back and shaking her hair out of its tangles. 

"Really," said Garrus. He stroked her thigh with his knuckles, a lazy intimacy that made the breath catch in her throat. 

"Really," she said. 

"Well, we do have all night." His other hand skimmed up her side to cup her ribs.

Shepard leaned into his touch, trailing her own fingers over his fringe. "We've got all the time in the galaxy." 


End file.
